


Disenchanted

by MathClassWarfare



Series: We're on a Road to Nowhere [7]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: BAMF Prompto Argentum, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Inspired by Art, M/M, POV Prompto Argentum, Secret Relationship, Status Effects
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22167715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MathClassWarfare/pseuds/MathClassWarfare
Summary: Prompto makes do. (Inspired by thisexcellent art by MysteriousBean)
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum & Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Series: We're on a Road to Nowhere [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1209105
Comments: 10
Kudos: 137
Collections: FFXV Creators' Haven





	Disenchanted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MysteriousBean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysteriousBean/gifts).



“The sun! Finally!” Prompto throws his hands in the air to celebrate leaving the dungeon behind. Cramped, crumbling, daemon-infested spaces are not really his jam, and they were in there for _so long_.

Noctis pats him on the back and walks ahead, falling into step with Ignis on the path back to the car. 

“Should we swing by Coernix—stock up on stuff?” Noctis asks.

Ignis’s only response is a raised eyebrow.

“Stupid question—sorry.” Noctis looks back over his shoulder at Prompto, and they both cringe.

Last time, Noctis had agreed to go in and buy supplies, but he got distracted by a cool lure. Prompto was distracted listening to Noctis talk about lures—he’s really cute when he’s geeking out. So now they’ve run out of remedies. And smelling salts. And antidotes. And maiden’s kisses. And elixirs. And pretty much everything except a few potions. They didn’t have a great time in that dungeon—which is why it’s very bad luck when a huge malboro comes gliding into view.

“We’ve got company,” Gladio grumbles.

“All of you,” Ignis shouts, “avoid its breath! The last thing we need is for any of us to be compromised.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Noctis teases, sword materializing in his hand, “we know.”

“—and here! Try this!” Ignis sends a wave of magic in Noctis’s direction, setting his sword on fire. 

“Metal!” Prompto throws up the horns. “Any tips for me, Iggy?” 

“Machinery—something long range.”

“Got it!” He thinks about his auto-crossbow and just like that, it appears. He hefts it up into position and puts that stinking, tentacled beast in his crosshairs. When it opens its mouth, Prompto sends a bolt right down its throat.

Noctis strikes with his flaming sword and warps away just in time to avoid the belch. “Nice shot, Prompto!” he calls from the branch where he’s hanging.

“Thanks, dude!”

“Noct. Be _careful!_ ” Ignis lobs a ball of fire, and there’s an awful sizzling as the malboro burns.

Gladio deftly avoids the flames, winding up and delivering a powerful blow with his greatsword.

“I _am_!” Noctis insists. Then he warps in again, just as the malboro starts to open its mouth.

“Oh shit,” Prompto breathes, watching a green fog engulf Noctis as he strikes the top of the monster’s head. At least he managed to kill the thing. It falls, heavily and with a splash, into the muck. 

Noctis starts to stand, then wobbles and keels over. 

When Prompto tries to dismiss the crossbow, it just stays there in his hand. _That’s weird._ He tries to reload it, but that doesn’t work either. He exchanges worried looks with Gladio, who seems to be having the same problem. 

As soon as the hazardous cloud dissipates, they all rush over to Noctis. He looks way too pale—maybe a little green—and his sweat-damp hair sticks to his forehead.

“Noct? Are you okay?” Ignis rests a hand on Noctis’s back as he stands and looks around—wild-eyed and disoriented. Then he gently takes the sword away and hands it to Gladio, to check Noctis’s pulse. When Ignis pushes his bangs aside to examine his eyes, Noctis swats at him and staggers backwards.

“W-we didn’t order any!” Noctis shouts. “Wednesday. Come back . . . Wednesday. . .” He sits down in the muck and turns his back on them.

“Well, shit,” Gladio exhales. 

“Iggy, the armiger doesn’t work!” Prompto holds up his empty crossbow, helplessly. 

“Yes, the malboro can inflict a great many nasty effects. Noct seems to be poisoned, disenchanted, enfeebled, and confused, at the very least. He can’t access his magic at the moment, so neither can we.”

“Oh no.” Prompto sets the useless crossbow aside, then crouches in front of Noctis. “Hey, buddy. We need to get you out of here, okay?” 

Noctis looks up at him and scowls. “Li’l Malbuddy,” he declares, throwing a rock into the pond.

Prompto tries and fails not to laugh at that. “Yeah, he’s not your buddy after all, huh? Okay, get up. Please?” He slides his arms under Noctis’s and tries to lift him. Instead, Noctis flops backwards and pulls Prompto down on top of himself. Under normal circumstances, this would be pretty great—or, it would be if they didn’t have an audience. Right now, it’s just distressing.

“Noct—” Prompto tries to push himself up, but Noctis is squeezing him so tightly. “Come _on!”_

“Don’t forget about the applesauce,” Noctis mutters into Prompto’s shoulder. “Ten—no, fifteen . . .”

Gladio cackles as Prompto awkwardly wriggles out of his best friend’s grasp. 

“Thanks for the help, big guy.” 

“You seemed like you had it under control. Plus, I didn’t want to end up rolling around in the pond with you two.” Gladio grins and hands Prompto the sword. “Here—hold this. I’ve already got one.” 

It’s Noctis’s favorite—the one he brought from home, but Cid fixed it up recently. Prompto swings the sword around in the air a little. He can’t tell if it feels any different from the last time he played with it, in the training hall before they left Insomnia. For just a heartbeat or two, homesickness tugs at him.

“Right,” Ignis says, focusing their attention. “I think there’s still a remedy in the car. I’ll get it. You two stay here with Noct.” 

Noctis pick up a handful of mud and hold it up to his face, examining it carefully before dropping it back into the water. Prompto watches this display, then turns and squints at the path ahead. It’s still a long way, past a lot of trees and underbrush—he can’t even see the road. 

“I dunno, Iggy,” he says. “You might run into something else on the way. Do you even have any weapons?”

“I don’t, but I’ll manage.” Ignis frowns.

“Blondie’s right.” Gladio shifts his sword from one hand to the other. “We should just take him.”

“Don’t—” Ignis raises a hand to stop Gladio from scooping Noctis up. “He’ll throw a fit and attract even more attention. I’ll be fine. Just keep an eye on him.”

Prompto looks around the sun-dappled grove. It’s peaceful and quiet, aside from the birds—and the four of them. 

“Seems pretty clear, now. Maybe you should both go? I’ll stay with Noct. It’s cool. Anything tries to mess with us—” he holds up the sword and flashes his most confident smile.

“You even know how to use that thing?” Gladio crosses his arms.

“Of course I do! I had a whole _week_ of Crownsguard training, remember?” Prompto laughs, assuming the most basic sword-fighting stance—the only one he knows. 

“Gladio, you go,” Ignis says, tossing him the keys. “The remedy should be in the glove box.”

“Got it. Be back in a few.” Gladio takes off at a slow jog, his enormous sword slung awkwardly over his shoulder.

“Let’s try to get him out of the water at least,” Ignis sighs.

“Good idea.”

Slowly and gently, with Ignis pushing and Prompto pulling, they coax Noctis onto dry land. On the way, he tells them all about his favorite tea set—it was real porcelain, painted with blue sylleblossoms. He also tries to tickle Prompto more than once, which is totally unfair.

Finally resting on the grass, Prompto gets Noctis out of his soaking boots and socks, then he pulls off his own. He lays them all out in the sun to dry and takes the opportunity to air out his stinking feet. 

After a few minutes, they hear a splash from behind some nearby trees. Prompto and Ignis both jump up, but Ignis holds out his hand and says, “Stay here—I’ll take a look.” 

“Want the sword?”

Ignis just shakes his head and slinks off into the brush. He’s such a badass.

With that, Prompto and Noctis are alone, and it’s a total waste.

When Prompto sits down in front of him, a stupid, beautiful smile stretches across Noctis’s face. Prompto runs a thumb under his best friend’s chin and wonders if it would be weird or wrong to kiss him in this state. He also wonders if something toxic would rub off on him and leave Ignis with two messed-up idiots to deal with. Before he can make up his mind, Noctis startles and grimaces at something over Prompto’s shoulder. 

Whipping around, Prompto sees a lone Sahagin bearing down on them. Noctis clings to him, hissing, and Prompto readies the sword, heart pounding. Just as the Sahagin rears up to bite them, he thrusts the weapon forward and runs the beast through in one clean strike. There’s a sickening crunchy squelch as he pulls the blade out. Then he whacks it a couple more times for good measure. When it’s over, Noctis relaxes and says, “Nine, nine . . . nine, nine.” 

“Thanks, Noct.”

Prompto’s wiping the sword off on the grass when Ignis returns.

“Are you two okay?” he asks, breathlessly. Then he notices the Sahagin corpse. “Ah. Nicely done, but here come the rest.” 

A dozen more Sahagin are approaching fast. There’s never just one.

Right on time, Gladio comes tearing down the path, brandishing his greatsword and letting out a growl that draws the enemies’ attention. Prompto sprints over to grab the remedy from him, then hands it off to Ignis before joining the fight. After cutting down one of them, he thinks he might be starting to get the hang of this melee combat thing. 

It isn’t long though before Noctis is back—leaving shimmering blue trails in the air behind his lance as he jabs one beast after another. With a rush of relief that leaves him grinning, Prompto swaps the sword for his revolvers and takes out two more Sahagin. Then Ignis moves in with lightning speed and daggers, killing three more in a blur of murderous finesse. Thankfully, he holds off on the ice magic while Prompto and Noctis are fighting in bare feet.

When the last beast goes down, Prompto dismisses his guns, savoring the otherworldly tingle. He glances over to see Gladio rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms—finally rid of his own heavy weapon. 

Prompto bounces over to Noctis to hand him his boots and socks. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah . . .” Noctis half-smiles and looks down. “Sorry about all that.”

“No biggie.” Prompto pats his shoulder.

They sit back-to-back on the ground and pull on their still-damp footwear. When Noctis helps Prompto up to his feet, he holds his hand just a little longer than necessary—long enough to notice and appreciate. Prompto would really like to kiss him right now, but Ignis and Gladio still don’t know that they’re doing that—at least he hopes they haven’t caught on yet. So Prompto just gives him a look that says, _’Later.’_

“Come, let’s go,” Ignis barks. “Preferably somewhere dry.” He leads them all down the path, back to the car.

As they walk, Prompto puts an arm around Noctis’s shoulders, leaning in to ask, “So . . . applesauce?”

“I have _no idea.”_

“It’s okay.” Prompto gives him a squeeze. “We won’t let you forget any of this.”

“No,” Noctis mutters, looking just a little dejected, “I’m sure you won’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you [MysteriousBean](https://twitter.com/CarrieVogel5) for your amazing art! When I saw this thing on twitter and you explained what was going on, I was done for. I am powerless to resist.
> 
> Also thanks to [Moonwaif](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonwaif) for the feedback!


End file.
